Lost and Found
by Mizvoy
Summary: JMark JC A few years after Endgame, Kathryn and Chakotay meet again.


Disclaimer: Star Trek and characters belong to Paramount. I'm just taking them out for a spin.

Note: This takes place a few years after their return to the AQ and was written prior to Endgame. So that nasty C/7 stuff never happened here.

Lost and Found

"Anything yet, Mr. Stovick?" asked Captain Kathryn Janeway from the command seat of the tactical vessel, U.S.S. Lance. She had sat there nearly motionless for twenty minutes, struggling to keep her growing impatience and frustration under control. There was an edge to her voice, though, that her tactical officer heard loud and clear.

"Nothing yet, Captain."

Janeway stood up and gripped her hands behind her back, forcing herself to breathe deeply and slowly. "I estimate ten more minutes at the observation point. Is that about right?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Let's remain vigilant." She hated this. Hanging so close to the neutral zone between Federation and Durata territory could be interpreted as an aggressive act, especially with their enhanced sensors probing deep into Durata space. And the irony was that Janeway didn't have a clue what they were looking for. Starfleet's assurance that she'd know it when the time came was small comfort to her right now.

She decided to make a leisurely tour of the bridge stations as she often did when she was bored or nervous. For some reason, she was calmed by the opportunity to lose herself in the minutiae of the screens at each station, and she reveled in the chance to reassure her young crew with a few words of encouragement. Even better, the tour usually took about ten minutes to complete.

She was halfway through the tour and looking at the ops panel when Stovick spoke up. "Captain, I'm picking up an anomaly in Durata space."

"What kind of anomaly?" she demanded as she strode to join him at tactical.

"I'd say, on first look, that it's a warp core breach."

She studied the screen and glanced back toward ops. "Ensign Tranak, what do you make of it?"

Tranak examined the screen while Janeway struggled not to fidget. She wanted the young officer to be sure of herself. Finally Tranak looked up. "It's definitely a warp core breech, Captain, perhaps the size of a runabout-sized core." She stared at the captain before she went on. "It has a definite Starfleet signature."

Janeway felt an icy fist close around her heart. "Did you say Starfleet, Ensign?"

Stovick joined in. "Confirmed, Captain. It is definitely a Starfleet warp core."

The bridge was silent as the crew waited for instructions. Janeway returned to the center seat and pulled up her orders. She was to return to these coordinates every twelve hours and maintain position for an hour while scanning Durata space for any unusual anomalies or events, responding as needed. Respond, as needed. Just what did that mean?

"Ensign Tranak, how deep in Durata space was that explosion?"

"I read one light year."

"That close?"

"Aye, Captain."

She glanced at her first officer. "Commander O'Connor, if you would join me in my ready room. Mr. Stovick, you have the bridge."

Once in her office, Janeway replicated coffee for both of them and invited her first officer to sit down as she went to her desk and pulled up the sensor data on the screen. She sipped her coffee as she studied the information, long moments of silence hanging between them. O'Connor waited patiently.

"Have you seen this, Commander?"

"I saw it as it occurred, Captain."

"Do you think Starfleet expected this? A warp core breech?"

"I believe the orders mentioned 'unusual events.'"

"Was I wrong to expect something less dramatic? A focused nadion beam? A sonic pulse? A subspace communication?"

"Maybe Starfleet didn't know what to expect, either?" O'Connor knew they were playing with rhetorical questions, so he drank his coffee and waited again while the captain returned to the computer screen. In the year he'd served with her, he'd learned to give Janeway plenty of time and space to apply her scientific mind to the raw data. He was usually amazed at what she came up with.

"Wait a minute! George, look at this."

She turned the screen toward him and pointed at a tiny spike in the sensor readings. He studied it, then looked up. "Captain, I came up through engineering, but I've never seen a spike like that in a breech, have you?"

"Never. So what was it?" She directed the computer to analyze the spike in greater detail, looking for any kind of piggybacked message. "More coffee, Commander?"

"No thanks, Captain. I still don't see what you like about the stuff."

"It gives me an edge."

"It gives me the heebie-geebies."

She laughed. "That doesn't sound good." The computer announced that the analysis was complete, and she studied the results. "Look at this, George."

O'Connor stood beside her. Embedded in the spike was a set of coordinates indicating a spot further along the neutral zone. He looked up at her in amazement. Most captains would have charged into Durata space to search for survivors, missing this key piece of information and possibly ruining their chances for success. But then, they weren't assigned to this mission.

"George, take the bridge and move Lance to these coordinates. I estimate it will take us a few hours to arrive. Keep scanning Durata space. In the meantime, I'm going to take this opportunity to get something to eat in my quarters."

"Aye, Captain."

Janeway boarded the turbolift and waited patiently for it to make its way to deck five. She still missed Voyager and her crew, but after a full year on Lance, she was finally getting used to the new names and faces. It was a small ship of just under one hundred, but it was powerful and fast and had incredible sensors, perfect for border patrol. And espionage.

Her quarters were small, but quiet and cool. She replicated some lunch and ate it at her desk so she could study the area surrounding the new coordinates with care and keep abreast of the current sensor sweeps as well. She wondered why Lance was being sent there, and she wondered who sent the embedded message.

At times like this, Janeway truly missed her first and second officers from Voyager. Tuvok, her security chief, had returned to Vulcan and was serving as Starfleet's liaison officer to the Vulcan Science Academy as he reintegrated himself into his family. Chakotay, her first officer, had joined Starfleet Academy's Department of Tactics and was designing and rewriting the coursework on terrorism, guerilla warfare, and counterinsurgency, but not, to her dismay, in San Francisco. His whereabouts were currently classified, and she hadn't seen or talked to him in nearly a year.

She certainly wished for Tuvok's insight and Chakotay's experience on this situation. They had provided her the perfect blend of cold logic and emotional intuition that she'd probably never find again. She knew, for example, that were Chakotay here he would seek her out, listen to her thoughts, challenge her assumptions, and force her to come up with a list of options on how to proceed. And, he would make her laugh in the process. God, she missed him.

Finishing her meal, she felt the beginning of a tension headache and decided on a shower and a fresh uniform. She tried to guess what could be going on, but she needed more information. All she knew for sure was that a Starfleet vessel, a small one, had either exploded or ejected its damaged warp core inside Durata space and used the explosion to mask a secret message. She assumed that she would meet the crew at the new coordinates, or, failing that, perhaps a message buoy.

Of course, it could also be a Durata ship waiting to blow Lance to bits.

"Bridge to Janeway."

"Janeway here."

"Captain, we'll reach the coordinates in fifteen minutes."

"I'm on my way." She checked her uniform one last time and brushed her hair. It was show time, and she planned to look like the perfect Starfleet captain.

When Lance reached the coordinates, which seemed bare inches from the neutral zone, Janeway was in the central seat on the bridge, peeking in on Stovick's scans of the sector.

"Nothing yet, Captain."

"Patience," she replied, repressing her own nervousness. "Raise shields."

O'Connor was surprised.

"Aye, Captain," Stovick answered, the tone of his voice making it a question.

"Just in case," she answered, shrugging. The Durata were once allies of the Romulans and could very well have a few cloaked vessels hanging around. They might take her shields being up as a provocative stance, but what could be more provocative than her position one half inch from the neutral zone?

An hour passed, and still Lance hung in space, waiting. Janeway had just finished her second bridge tour and had returned to her seat when Stovick shouted in surprise, "Captain, a Durata vessel is approaching the neutral zone at high warp, heading straight for us."

"Scan the vessel, Mr. Stovick. Does it have its shields up?"

"Yes, ma'am, and weapons armed."

"Is it alone?"

Stovick expanded the range of the scan. "Negative. Two vessels are pursuing, closing to within firing range."

"On screen." A tiny dot appeared in the star field. "Maximum magnification."

The Durata vessel appeared on the screen with the others in the distance, too far, as yet, to fire upon the ship. Janeway realized, of course, that the first ship could contain survivors of the Starfleet ship heading for Federation space. It could also be a trap.

"Any life signs on the lead vessel?"

"I'm getting three, all human. One is quite faint," Stovick replied.

Human life signs? Easily faked, of course, but Janeway doubted it. So. Human life signs.

"Commander O'Connor, prepare a message buoy for Starfleet command informing them of the situation. If we're forced to enter the neutral zone, we'll send out the buoy. Continue recording and wait for my mark."

She stood up. "Open hailing frequencies." At a nod from Stovick, she began, "Unidentified Durata vessel. This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Lance. You are rapidly approaching the neutral zone. Please state your intentions."

Silence.

"Continue sending the message, Mr. Stovick."

Janeway desperately wanted to pace, but, instead, she returned to her seat and casually crossed her legs. This was a young, inexperienced crew that needed their captain to remain calm, even if they could sense that her heart was pounding. She was fairly certain that the three humans had somehow survived the warp core explosion, commandeered a Durata vessel, and headed for Federation space. She was also fairly sure that they were part of an undercover reconnaissance team that Starfleet was unlikely to claim as its own. Her dilemma was when and if she should enter the neutral zone to rescue them.

Of course, another possibility tickled the back of her mind. Perhaps the Durata had captured or killed the team, blown up the runabout, and sent the escaping vessel toward this part of space to lure her into the neutral zone and create a justification for war. In that case, Janeway should ignore the scene before her. However, she usually found herself erring toward action rather than toward inaction. She knew what she was going to do. It was just a matter of time.

And she realized time was growing short. "Mr. Stovick, how long before the pursuing vessels will be within weapon's range?"

"Seven minutes, Captain."

"If the lead ship maintains speed and course, where will it be at that time?"

"Right in the middle of the neutral zone."

"I see." Damn. She'd have to make some quick decisions. "Any response to our hails?"

"Negative, Captain."

She sighed. "Suggestions?"

O'Connor answered immediately. "Obviously, the fleeing Durata vessel is aware of the coordinates hidden in the core explosion. Perhaps they are Starfleet personnel who escaped and need our assistance."

"Or," Stovick stated, "it's a carefully staged trap."

Janeway nodded in satisfaction to hear her officers mirroring her own thoughts. Before she could reply, Stovick continued, "Captain, we're getting a reply from the pursuing ships."

Janeway stood and faced the screen, steeling herself for what could only be an angry confrontation. "On screen."

The Durata captain glared at her. "I am Deska Matte of the Durata warship Antes. This pursuit is an internal matter and of no interest to the Federation. Stand down and move away from the neutral zone."

Janeway stiffened. "Captain Janeway of the Lance. I appreciate your advice," she replied, her voice cold, "but I will decide what is and what is not 'of interest' to the Federation."

"Any action you take, including communication with these criminals, will be interpreted as an act of war, Captain Janeway."

"As you wish, Captain Deska," she replied, cutting their communication link. She gave O'Connor a long look, feeling herself relax. There were definitely humans on that ship. "In for dime, in for a dollar."

O'Connor nodded. "I agree."

"Prepare to jettison the message buoy," she said, returning to her seat. "Lay a course into the neutral zone, Ensign, and prepare to engage at warp six on my command."

"Aye, Captain," replied the ensign at the helm, her voice excited at the prospect of going into action for the first time.

Before she could issue the order to engage engines, Tranak interrupted her. "Captain. We're receiving a garbled message from the lead vessel, text only. I'd guess that their communication system is badly damaged."

"Well, that explains their silence," she commented. "Can you clean it up?"

"Aye, Captain." She spent a few moments at the task. "It says, 'Have coffee ready.'" She looked at the captain, confused. "Can that be right? 'Have coffee ready'?"

Janeway, obviously shaken, rose to her feet. The term, "have coffee ready," had been a secret joke between herself and Chakotay for years in the Delta Quadrant, always a final, eyes-only message they sent to each other when one of them was returning from an away mission. Who else but Chakotay could possibly know about that? Suddenly, those three human life signs seemed very precious to her.

"Thank you, Ensign," she said, regaining her voice. "Send the message buoy. Ensign, engage warp engines. Mr. Stovick, power all phaser banks and load quantum torpedoes. Mr. O'Connor, take all non-essential systems off line and use all available power to reinforce shields and structural integrity." She listened to their acknowledgments as she regained her seat. "Red alert. All crew to battle stations."

The bridge was strangely quiet as Lance raced into the neutral zone.

"The lead ship is under fire," Stovick reported.

O'Connor leaned toward the captain on the command deck. "I'm guessing that the term 'Have coffee ready' has special significance to you."

She gave him a small smile. "You could say that."

"We're going in with all guns firing."

"Exactly. They aren't getting those three humans, Mr. O'Connor, if I have anything to say about it."

Stovick reported, "The lead ship has lost warp power and is losing structural integrity."

"How long until we're within range?"

"Ten seconds."

"Bring us out of warp on my mark. Mr. Stovick, I want a full spread of torpedoes when we return to normal space." She watched the seconds tick away. "Mark."

Immediately, three torpedoes raced toward the Durata ships. Without waiting for results, Janeway ordered phaser fire. "Ensign, maneuver Lance between the lead ship and the Durata. Lieutenant," she glanced up as the first salvo of return fire rocked the bridge, "extend our shields around the lead Durata ship and beam the three humans to sickbay."

"Shields at seventy-eight percent," Stovick reported.

"Keep firing. Target their weapons."

"Beam out complete."

Janeway turned to the helm. "Ensign, get us back to Federation space. Maximum available speed."

"Engaging at warp nine."

"Lay in a course to the nearest star base," she ordered. "Are the Durata pursuing?"

"Negative, Captain. They're returning to Durata space and filing a protest with the Federation."

"Fine," she chuckled. "We'll let the diplomats work out the details. Damage, Mr. O'Connor?"

"Shields at sixty-five percent. Minor damage to our port sensor array. Minor injuries in engineering."

Janeway smiled. "I'd say we came out on top this time, Mr. O'Connor."

"Yes. And you'll be going to sickbay to serve the coffee."

She gave him a long look, wondering what he thought about her haste to see the survivors. What did George really imagine? "I want to know what three humans were doing in Durata space, Commander, and why they put Lance in danger."

He grinned. "Right."

"I'll be in sickbay," she announced, giving her first officer a stern look. "You have the bridge."

She got on the turbolift and forced herself to relax, to get over the trembling that so often followed such battles. She knew Chakotay was on board the ship as surely as she knew her own name, and, she reluctantly admitted, she was anxious to see him. O'Connor had no doubt sensed her excitement.

Unlike Voyager's sickbay, Lance's had a reception/office area with three alcoves for more serious injuries and a fourth area with multiple beds for recovery and minor injuries. She was met by her CMO, Dr. LeClerc.

"Hello, Captain," he said. "I've been expecting you. Only minor injuries on Lance," he continued, gesturing toward the multi-bed ward, "but we lost one of the beam-ins. The other two are critical, but should make it. We got them out of there with seconds to spare."

Janeway felt the blood drain from her face as she glanced toward the two active alcoves. Who had died? Chakotay?

"Are you all right, Captain?" LeClerc asked, noticing the ashen look of her skin. "Were you injured?"

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. "I want to see the survivors."

"This way. I'm afraid they're in no condition to answer questions."

She followed him into the first alcove where she nearly fainted with surprise. Ayala, a Maquis who had served on Voyager, lay sleeping peacefully under the intensive care cowling. His eyes fluttered as she leaned over him.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Ayala," she said, gently touching his shoulder.

"Captain Janeway!" he mumbled. "A really nice rescue, ma'am. Thanks."

"My pleasure."

"The other two?"

She silenced the doctor with a gesture. No need to trouble him now with his lost crewmate. "We're doing all we can."

Ayala nodded and closed his eyes, slipping back into unconsciousness.

"Will he be okay, doctor?"

"He was the least injured of the three."

She held her breath as she followed her CMO into the second alcove. As soon as she spotted the distinctive tattoo on the patient's forehead, she found herself slumping against the bulkhead in relief.

LeClerc was instantly at her side. "Captain! Are you sure you're all right?"

Dizzy, she leaned against him for support. "This patient is Captain Chakotay, my first officer on Voyager."

LeClerc paled. "I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't realize you knew him. I've repaired plasma burns, but his lungs are still healing. He sustained a serious concussion, so I've induced a coma and begun therapy to avoid permanent brain damage." He patted her hand, aware of the bond that forms between command teams on long deep-space missions. "With time, he'll recover completely."

She thanked him and approached the biobed. "Could you leave me with him?"

"Certainly." He watched her a moment, and then continued, "Many patients in comas respond positively to the presence and voice of significant others. He may hear you on some level and take comfort from your presence."

She gave him a solemn look. "I understand."

Once alone with Chakotay, Janeway stood for a long time staring at the still body on the biobed, trying to calm herself and control her emotions. Finally, she walked to his side and looked down at his familiar, dear face.

Their parting a year earlier had long troubled her. After working together intimately for nearly seven years and then the months of debriefings, they seemed unable to talk to each other in a non-work situation. They discussed his assignment to the Academy and hers to the Lance as if they were arranging Voyager's work schedule, as if they would see each other every day instead of being light years apart. The truth was that they were tired of being together, tired of interacting constantly in stressful situations, and tired of the protocol that defined their relationship. Truly, familiarity had brought on contempt; the spark they had shared had simply died of neglect. It was a relief to work with a new crew on a different ship, and Janeway had plunged into Lance with her usual dedication.

Months later, she realized how much she missed him, but, by then she was fully engaged as Lance's captain and he had disappeared on a classified mission. She wasn't sure they could restart their friendship, anyway. Experience had taught her that unexplored relationships were better left as a memory of something that might have been.

Now, as she studied his face, she knew she needed to have him back in her life in some capacity. She could think of a thousand things she wanted to tell him and to share with him about her public and private life. She wanted to hear what he'd been doing. She wanted to hear his stories, told in his soft, gentle voice with his usual humor. She wanted to feel his presence beside her, his strong, silent support that had been there for so long in the Delta Quadrant. She wanted to play velocity with him, go for walks, sit with him beside a campfire.

She remembered the precise moment she realized how much he meant to her. Lance had returned to earth, and Kathryn had spent the day in San Francisco running errands and attending meetings. On her way home to her apartment, she decided, on a whim, to stop at the Night Owl, a favorite coffee shop dating all the way back to her academy days. She walked in, ordered coffee, and turned to look for an empty stall when she heard someone calling her name.

Mark Johnson, her former fiancé, sat in a booth in the dark recesses of the shop waving at her to join him. She sat down across from him, hardly believing her eyes. She hadn't seen him since Voyager's triumphant return.

"Kathryn, it's wonderful to see you."

She blushed. "You, too, Mark. What are you doing in San Francisco?"

"A Questor group meeting. Actually, I was hoping I'd run into you here."

She laughed and shook her head. "This is my first trip to the Night Owl since Voyager got back."

"I guess it was meant to be, then."

They talked for an hour over coffee and then decided to have dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant just around the corner. By the time they finished dinner, and the second bottle of wine, Kathryn's defenses were down. She hadn't been this relaxed, hadn't felt this safe with a friend since her dinners with Chakotay on Voyager. Mark walked her to her apartment, helped her unlock the door, and then kissed her goodnight. After all their years together, it seemed only natural to be with him, such a normal event, that she simply pulled him into the apartment and let him spend the night.

She awoke the next morning to find him dressing quickly. "If I don't get out of here by seven, I'll be late for my transport home," he explained as he slipped on his coat. "Meredith and the kids will be waiting for me."

She didn't know what to say. Her head ached, her stomach was churning, and her mouth felt dry and full of sand. She had literally forgotten about the wife and children, and she deeply regretted what they had done. She could tell that Mark regretted it, too.

As he turned to leave, he gave her a long look. "Kathryn, what about this man? Chakotay."

She was suddenly wary. "He was my first officer on Voyager. You know that."

He smiled indulgently, shaking his head in amazement. "C'mon, Kath. This is Mark you're talking to."

"What do you mean?"

"You talked about him constantly at dinner last night. Were you two alone on Voyager?"

She felt herself blushing. "Sometimes it felt that way."

"And then last night when we were . . . well, you called his name."

Kathryn wanted to sink through the floor. "Oh, Mark, I'm sorry. I was drunk and I didn't know what I was saying."

"Please, don't apologize. I was thinking of Meredith, myself." He put his hands on her shoulders, his eyes soft and sad. "Maybe it was a good thing that this happened, Kath. Now we both know that we've really moved on. I've always wondered if I was really over you. I know I'll always love you in a way, but now I've found happiness somewhere else. And you can, too."

She shook her head. "It's not like that between Chakotay and me."

"Then it should be." Her head snapped up. "You tend to categorize people, Kath, and then never look back. When you met him, we were engaged, he was the enemy, and then he was your subordinate. You limited your relationship with him because of that, but it's time to look at him again. You're in love with him, Kath. Don't miss out on a chance for happiness." He kissed her on her forehead and walked out of her life forever.

Kathryn had spent many hours thinking about Mark's advice and had decided that she did need to rethink her relationship with Chakotay. But he had long since disappeared on his classified mission, so, she had done what she had always done and put the problem in the far recesses of her mind while she threw herself into her work. Now, the problem had just landed in her lap once again.

She hovered over Chakotay's unconscious body, trying to think of something to say. Finally, she caressed his face and smiled. "Chakotay," she whispered, "do I have a surprise for you!" And so, she talked.

* * *

She visited him daily for the two days he was in the coma and managed to get Starfleet to agree to let Lance bring the survivors back to San Francisco for debriefing, giving her another week with Chakotay on board. As the time approached for Dr. LeClerc to bring his patient back to consciousness, Janeway found herself more and more nervous. It was one thing to talk to an unaware friend and quite another to revive the friendship in person.

"LeClerc to Janeway."

She looked up from her ready room desk and answered, "Janeway here."

"I thought you might like to know that Captain Chakotay has regained consciousness."

She swallowed. "I'll be right down."

The trip to sickbay seemed to take an hour, yet she found herself outside the door all too soon. How would Chakotay react to her presence? Had he found someone else in the year since they'd last seen each other? Would he gently and kindly let her down? She hadn't felt this nervous when she'd been partially assimilated by the Borg.

The doors swooshed open, and Janeway strode into sickbay oozing confidence. "Where's our patient, Doctor?"

LeClerc gestured toward the usual alcove and disappeared into his office. He'd overheard enough of her one-way conversations in the last week to know that they would not appreciate a chaperone.

Kathryn stood inside the door a moment. Chakotay lay quietly, his eyes closed, and she feared he might be asleep. Finally he opened one eye and raised his head. "Are you coming in, Kathryn? I don't bite."

She chuckled and moved to the edge of the bed, resting her hand on his chest. "It's good to hear your voice, Chakotay."

He reached up and took her hand in his two. "Thank God it was you, Kathryn."

"What do you mean?"

"When we were forced to eject the warp core and beam onto the damaged Durata ship, I was afraid whoever was out here would come charging after us and ruin our chances for escape."

"I have to admit that the thought did occur to me."

"You aren't the impulsive type."

"No. I'm not impulsive." She took a breath, wondering if she should bring up the team member he lost when his own condition was still so fragile. But, he wasn't the type to shy away from the harsh realities of life. Better, she decided, to get it over with now. "I can't help but wonder whether Ensign Thomas might have survived, too, if I'd reacted more quickly."

Chakotay shook his head, his eyes sad. "Don't feel bad about Brian. He was seriously injured when our runabout exploded and never really had a chance. A few minutes one way or the other wouldn't have made a difference."

"I know how hard it is to lose someone."

"Yeah. You just hope that their lives weren't wasted doing something frivilous."

"Speaking of that, I don't guess you can tell me what you were doing in Durata space."

He laughed. "Well, I could tell you."

"But then you'd have to kill me?"

He squeezed her hand. "Right."

She sat down on the chair beside the bed. "When I got your 'coffee' message, I nearly panicked."

"You came in like the cavalry, all right."

"I didn't bring you all the way from the Delta Quadrant to watch you get killed on some covert mission."

He looked away for a moment, his eyes running over the sleek walls of sickbay. "How does it feel to have a new ship?"

"Strange. I've finally stopped calling my first officer Chakotay, but I still find myself going to the wrong decks once in awhile. I just can't seem to remember that engineering is on deck eight, sickbay on deck four." She shrugged. "What I really miss is the crew."

"We miss you, too."

She laughed. "I find that hard to believe. How could they miss 'Old Grey Eyes'?"

"You knew about that."

"I always thought my eyes were closer to blue than grey."

He gave her a wary look. "They are. Unless you're angry."

"I see." She noticed that his eyes were drooping. "Listen, I get to keep you and Ayala on board until we reach earth, so we'll have time to have a good conversation. You need some rest."

"I don't understand how I can wake up from a coma and still be tired." He smiled at her, and she felt her pulse quicken at the sight of his dimples. "I'm going to make you keep your promise about the conversation, though."

"I promise. My life isn't quite as hectic on Lance as it was in the Delta Quadrant."

He smiled, but she felt his grip on her hand loosen as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next day, when Chakotay was released from sickbay to his quarters, Kathryn was involved in a daylong marathon of meetings that started at breakfast, ran through lunch and dinner, and ended halfway through gamma shift. Exhausted, she made her way to her quarters for a quick meal, a shower, and a change of clothing. She wondered if she could stay awake long enough to go see Chakotay or if he was already asleep.

She felt much better after a shower and, wearing a sweat suit, made her way to the replicator for a salad when the door chime interrupted her.

"Come in," she said as she picked up the salad and ordered coffee. "If that's the power consumption report, Bailey, I must commend you for your efficiency."

"Actually, Kathryn, it's just me." She froze at the sound of Chakotay's voice, and then turned to stare at him. He smiled. "Another late dinner?"

"Some things never change. Can I get you something?"

"Some tea." He sat down across from her at the table. "I asked my computer to let me know when you arrived at your quarters, and then I added twenty minutes to give you time to relax."

She attacked the salad. "You know me too well."

He watched her eat and said, "No lunch or dinner, right?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You can tell?"

He shook his head. "A lucky guess. Bad habits are hard to break. And to think I blamed those habits on the Delta Quadrant." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "There were a few moments in Durata space when I wondered if we were going to make it." He leaned forward and took her hand. "Then I heard your voice over the comm line, and I realized we had a real chance."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said, squeezing his hand. "I learned a lot of tricks from a former Maquis I used to hang around with."

He shifted in his seat. "Ayala says you came to see me every day in sick bay. You sat with me and talked to me, he says."

"Dr. LeClerc said that a familiar voice would help you recover."

"And you took time out of your schedule to do that for me?"

She nodded. "I owe you so much, Chakotay. It was a small deposit on a payback."

"What did you say to me, Kathryn?"

"Nothing very exciting. Just news about the Voyager crew, about Starfleet politics, that kind of stuff."

"Do you mind going over it again? I don't seem to remember the details."

She laughed and pushed her empty plate away from her. "No problem. I'm getting more coffee, though. Meet me on the sofa?"

He stood up, hesitating. "Maybe you're too tired from your long day to rehash all this for me."

"Actually, I've been looking forward to talking to you when you could talk back. After all, I haven't seen you in over a year. Sit down. If I fall asleep, just put a blanket on me and shut the door on your way out. You've done it before."

"All right," he said as he settled onto the sofa and watched her recycle the dirty dishes and order a new cup of coffee. She had just sat down next to him when the door chime rang.

"Come in."

A very young looking ensign hesitated outside the door. "Am I interrupting something, sir?"

"Not 'sir,' ensign. 'Captain' will do. If that's the power consumption report, you aren't interrupting at all."

"It is, sir. I mean, Captain." She barely entered the room and leaned the report toward them as though they carried an infectious disease.

"This is Captain Chakotay, my first officer from Voyager. Chakotay, this is Ensign Valerie Bailey."

Chakotay gave her his most charming smile. "You can call me 'sir,' Ensign."

For a moment, the young woman seemed confused, but then she smiled and visibly relaxed. "Thank you, sir," she said to him as she finally stepped close enough to hand Janeway the report. "Is there anything else, Captain?"

"No, Valerie. I'll see you on the bridge."

"Aye, Captain." She backed out of the room.

Chakotay turned to the tiny woman next to him and laughed. "How do you manage to scare these ensigns half to death?"

"It must be my cold, gray eyes, don't you think?" she mumbled as she quickly scanned the report. "And George isn't as good as you were in humanizing me to the crew."

"I thought I had you softened up by the time we got home."

"Well, obviously, it's an on-going mission." She took off her slippers and unconsciously rubbed her foot. "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Chakotay reached down and pulled her feet into his lap and began to give them a gentle massage. Kathryn pushed a throw pillow behind her back and reclined, her eyes closed. "Amazing," she said, stifling a groan of pressure.

"What is? That I remember how tired your feet get wearing those boots?"

"No. That after all these months apart, we can slip right back into our friendship so easily."

"We needed the time apart."

She opened one eye. "You really think so? Why?"

"We were together too much, too long under the worst possible circumstances. The last six months were particularly grueling."

"I don't even want to think about it. We kept Voyager going with our blood, sweat, and tears."

"Even then we barely made it at all."

"Uhmmm. Chakotay, no one spoils me here like you always did on Voyager."

"I didn't spoil you. I just helped you."

"In so many ways." She sat up slightly. "I wish I'd said thank you more often."

"You did, as much as you could. You had the ship and 147 people to consider first."

Kathryn leaned back on the pillow and sighed. Chakotay enjoyed the comfortable silence for awhile when he realized she had fallen asleep. He ended the massage and watched her, glad to have a few moments to study her. She seemed younger, perhaps because she was no longer under such stress, and she'd grown her hair longer again. She was more relaxed, less driven, than he'd ever seen her, and he thought she was beautiful.

She started and sat up. "How rude of me to doze off. I've wanted so much to talk to you."

"You told me a year ago that we had nothing left to share."

She pulled her knees up and leaned her chin on them, studying her toes. She looked up. "It seems to me that the Kathryn Janeway you knew on Voyager wasn't the real me. I was struggling with guilt, smothered by responsibility, and utterly goal oriented." She frowned. "I didn't like myself much."

He pushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Kathryn. What you say is true, but you were also a warm, caring commander and a good friend to everyone. We didn't envy you your position, but we all thought you did the best anyone could do under the circumstances. You got us home, after all."

She buried her face in her arms. "If I could go back, I'd do a few things differently."

"Really?" When she looked up he flashed his dimples at her. "I don't think so."

She grimaced. "Maybe you're right, but I want you to know that I wish I could have. I wanted to."

"What would you change?"

She held her breath, wondering if she should tell him. Finally she just blurted it out, "I wouldn't have pushed you away."

He was so surprised by her answer that he stared at her for a long moment. "Our decision not to pursue a relationship was mutual, Kathryn. I agreed that we needed to focus on the ship, the crew. If I learned anything from my experience with Seska, it was that the captain and first officer need to keep their distance. Especially in a situation like ours."

"We couldn't have kept our professional distance if we were involved with each other?"

He cradled her cheek. "We were barely civil to each other as friends when we got back, Kathryn. We would have destroyed any chance we had to be together if we had become involved."

She laughed, but she relished the warmth of his hand on her face. She felt a tiny thrill of hope at his words. "Do you ever wonder how our relationship might have developed under different circumstances? What if you hadn't been in the Maquis? What if we had both been Starfleet officers in Federation space when we met?"

"You mean the way we're meeting now?" He let his hand fall to her shoulder and rest there.

She whispered, "Yes."

"If this were our first meeting, I'd ask you for a date. Right away."

"I'd accept. What would we do?"

He smiled. "That depends on where we were at the time."

"San Francisco."

"Hmmm. Gambina's for dinner. They have a great eggplant parmigiana. Red wine. A long walk in Golden Gate Park to watch the moon rise. Then a booth in a dark coffee shop with a jazz band."

"Sounds like a long night."

"The time would fly by."

They stared at each other, the tension in the room growing exponentially. "We no longer have a command relationship," she said, her voice soft as she reached out and touched his face. "I would've invited you up for a nightcap."

He leaned toward her. "I wonder if you kiss on the first date."

"Oh, yes. But just a kiss. I'm not that easy." He laughed. She shifted slightly and leaned toward him. "How many 'dates' have we had over the years, Chakotay?"

"Hundreds. Maybe thousands."

"And not one kiss." She closed the distance between them and kissed him softly, amazed at the shock she felt in the pit of her stomach. "My god, Chakotay."

"What?" She could tell that the kiss had overwhelmed him as well.

"I take it back," she admitted as she let him pull her onto his lap. "Maybe I am easy."

He chuckled and kissed her again, this time with passion and desire. They pulled apart and looked into each other's eyes, foreheads touching.

"This is what I was afraid of, Chakotay."

"You were afraid of me?"

"I was afraid of how much I love you."

"The feeling is mutual, Kathryn. You aren't facing this alone." They kissed again.

Kathryn sighed and snuggled against him. "So what's next?"

He smiled at her wickedly. "Has it been that long?"

She grinned. "I wasn't talking about that. I mean our jobs. I don't want us to be apart for months at a time."

"It seems to me that our being together hinges on you giving up command of Lance. I don't relish living with the 'parameters' of being part of your crew."

She nuzzled his neck. "We'll find a way. I'll do whatever it takes. Commanding a ship in the alpha quadrant is dull work, anyway."

He pushed her back and shook his head. "Didn't you just face down the Durata to save my bacon?"

"A known quantity. What's the challenge in that?" She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. "I'm tired of talking, aren't you?"

"Whatever you say, Kathryn."

"I thought I'd lost you, Chakotay."

"Well, if you did, I'd say you've found me. And I promise not to get lost again."

She smiled as she stood up, took his hand, and led him into the bedroom.


End file.
